196 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. 
discover it! around, below, above, the mysterious 
music floated on the air, but the bird remained unseen. 
The notes, I am certain, are ventriloquial, for they 
never indicate the place in which the bird is at rest 
while uttering them; a bird may seem at a distance, 
while in reality he is close at hand. 
Cautiously I plunged into the dense thicket of wild 
pines and yuccas that grew on a quaking bed of 
sphagnum, waded into a growth of calumet grass - 
higher than my head, and so, plunging deeply and 
holding by rotten trees, I got within shot. At the re- 
port, the bird flew wildly and fell at a distance from 
where I stood; a few steps farther, and I found my- 
self on the edge of a deep gulch over which hung a 
tangled mass of dead bushes and grass. Toby came to 
my, assistance with his cutlass, but we only succeeded 
in getting a foot or two farther. I was obliged to leave 
my first soufriére-bird, Toby remarking, “No use, 
make um too much bad.” We retraced our steps, and 
when within sight of our cave, discovered some people 
there; a nearer approach revealed a party of ladies 
and gentlemen from the windward sugar-estates, who 
had come up to the mountain marooning. At my re- 
quest, they made their headquarters in the cave, and 
then we all started for the “new crater,” reaching it 
after some tough walking, and plucky riding on the 
part of the ladies. 
The “new crater” lies east of the “old,” and is 
reached by a narrow trail half circling the huge basin 
of the latter. The climb from the regular trail to 
windward is steep and fatiguing, and made worse by 
over-trailing grass and filamentous yucca, which will 
get entangled in one’s legs spite of endeavors to pre- 
